Wicked Intent
by CoffeeManiac
Summary: An adventure with the boys, a baby, a ghost and a mystery. Some hurt/comfort. No slash. Story is complete. New chapter will be posted about every two days. Reviews are welcome.
1. Chapter 1

Wicked Intent

Coffeemaniac

Warnings: Suggestive situations, Violence

February, 2000

Sam knocked on Kaylee Sullivan's door. He pulled his coat, a ragged hand-me-down from Dean, closer around his body. The cold February wind seemed to blow through the material easily and he figured he'd have to go to a thrift shop soon to replace it. His blue jeans were newer, only looking frayed at the ankles. The button down blue flannel was new, purchased on clearance, but still new.

The door opened revealing a pleasant looking woman with short blond hair and wearing a loose fitting sweater. Holding out her hand, she smiled at Sam.

"I'm Kaylee's mother. You must be Sam Winchester," she said.

He shook with her. "Yes, ma'am."

"Come on in out of the cold. Kaylee is just about ready."

Sam nodded as he walked into the foyer of a nice single story house. He tried to hide his nervousness as she led him into the living room.

A skinny boy with light brown hair sat on the gray couch clutching a game control while playing Mario Brothers. With a small scowl, Mrs. Sullivan picked up an empty glass that sat next to the boy.

As she invited Sam to sit down, she said, "Don't mind Ricky. He barely knows we're in the room."

"Thank you," Sam said. He sat down at the opposite end of the couch but stayed perched on the edge of the cushion. He hoped Kaylee arrived soon. He wasn't used to being around regular families, or moms, and he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do.

"Do you want something to drink?" Mrs. Sullivan said.

"No, thank you, ma'am."

"What are you two doing tonight?" Kaylee's mother said. She stood a couple of feet away from him. She still held the empty glass.

"I thought we'd grab a slice," he said, "And then go to the football game."

"It's a big game," she said. "East versus West. Big rivalry."

"That's what I was told."

"That's right. You're new in town, aren't you?"

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

He, Dean and their father arrived a few weeks earlier. They were staying in a two bedroom extended stay motel. They came to town to investigate a poltergeist case but they soon discovered the entity was travelling from house to house in the neighborhood. Poltergeist generally fixated on a female tween in one home, sometimes a male, sometimes an angst ridden teenager. Nothing in Sam's research or his father's experience suggested one would travel between homes of unrelated people.

At sixteen, Sam worked cases with the same responsibility as his father and brother. Several years earlier his role had changed from strictly research and maintenance to actively investigating. They worked as a team to decipher and resolve any cases that their father found.

Sam would have preferred a more normal situation that didn't involve hunting monsters but that wasn't the Winchester way.

Mrs. Sullivan continued chatting until Kaylee walked into the living room. Sam felt a jolt of interest when he saw her. With blond hair hanging around her shoulders, a black sweater and blue jeans that hugged her figure, she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. She blushed as she greeted him and Sam shot to his feet. His father taught him to stand when a female entered the room.

"Just a moment before you go," Mrs. Sullivan said. "Kaylee's dad will want to meet you."

"Mom," Kaylee said, sounding annoyed.

Her mother called out "Bob" and a normal looking guy with short hair, and wearing a Buffalo Bills sweatshirt, came from the same direction Kaylee had emerged from.

He walked up to Sam with his hand out. Sam shook with him.

"Sam Winchester, right?" Bob Sullivan said.

"Yes, sir."

"What does your dad do, Sam?"

"He's a mechanic." The partial lie came out automatically.

"Does he work for someone locally?"

"Right now he's just working on his own, taking jobs when they come up. My brother helps him."

"Is your brother older or younger?"

"Older. About four years."

"Will you be seeing him tonight?" Bob said.

"No," Sam said, wondering at the odd question.

"Good. Good. Kaylee doesn't need to be hanging around adult men, does she?"

"Oh, right, yeah, no," Sam said, understanding the inquiry. "It'll just be the two of us except at the game and that's just kids."

"All right then. Kaylee's curfew is at 11:00, are you going to have her home by then?"

Sam nodded. "Yes, sir, if that's her curfew, I'll make sure she's here."

"God, Dad," Kaylee said. Her voice came out tight and high pitched.

Her father ignored her. "All right, son, you two have a good time. I'll see you when you bring her home."

Sam nodded as he shook with Bob again. He turned around to glance at Kaylee and gave her a small smile to let her know he wasn't offended by her father.

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A few hours later, Sam stood outside the motel room where he and his family were staying. Kaylee leaned on his arm and chattered about the loss to their school. The high school football team played badly but Kaylee knew several of the players so she blamed the bitter cold and bad calls by the referees. Sam chose not to argue. He liked listening to her talk and he liked the way her warm body felt against his.

She had started stroking her fingers along his arm and side during the game. Her hand had traveled across his belly too, lingering just above his belt. She had kissed him several times with warm, soft pecks. A couple of times her lips stayed longer and harder while her fingers clutched his hips, or hooked in his belt loops. Sam had readily responded, adding his own arms wrapping her close against him.

Sam rubbed her back, his large hands easily covering her narrow frame from hips to shoulder. Her breasts pressed against his chest while she cupped the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his hair. He dared a couple of quick touches to her butt and she didn't stop him so he gathered the tight globes tightly, his whole body igniting when she didn't give any sign that he overstepped.

Instead, Kaylee pushed up on her heels and kissed him more firmly, letting him sink his tongue into her mouth while she rested her body against his.

The cold around them blew bitterly which only drove Sam to hold her more tightly, protecting her from the chill while they embraced.

"Let's go in where it's warm," Sam said, his mouth hovering just above hers. "No one's in there."

"In a motel? Just the two of us?" Kaylee said. She clenched her teeth in a tight smile and hunched her shoulders.

"It's where I live. Same as going to my house if I had one," Sam said.

She nodded. "Okay. I guess that's true."

Sam put his arm around her. He could feel her tensed posture so he lightly rubbed her shoulder. She relaxed a little and he smiled to himself. He liked making her feel safe and her body warmed him. He had draped his jacket over her earlier so the only heat he was getting was from her.

He unlocked the door and checked his watch. They still had an hour before she needed to be home.

He stood back to let her in first then offered to get them drinks. He'd need to go to the vending machine but he wanted her to feel welcome. She declined but stood near the center of the room with her arms folded in front of her.

"Have a seat," Sam said. "I can walk you home in a little bit."

Nervous energy hummed through him and he was relieved when his voice sounded steady. It seemed like Kaylee might want to go further than just the petting they'd been doing. He hadn't made it to third base yet but he was anxious to try. Dean said if he made it there then "going all the way" was practically a sure thing.

Kaylee perched on the edge of the couch. She skimmed off his jacket, laying it neatly on the nearby chair. Sam settled beside her. He took her hand first then slipped his arm around her. Gently tugging her backward, he pressed her into the couch before covering her mouth with his. She sighed against his lips, squirming to get more comfortable. Sam pushed his tongue inside then cupped her breast with one hand. It felt warm and firm beneath her shirt and his body responded enthusiastically. He curled his arm around her back, keeping her close while he explored her mouth. He could feel her heart beating fast against his own. His free hand glided slowly to the hem of her black sweater and he pushed underneath finding soft skin.

Sam noticed Kaylee's palms pressed around his shoulders, not hugging him but squeezing against his upper arms. Her mouth stayed planted against his and she shifted again.

He stroked circles against her belly then slowly slid his fingers beneath the top of her jeans. Wanting to see her face, he pulled away from her mouth while he dove deeper beneath her clothes.

Expecting to see his own excitement reflected back at him, Sam was stunned when he saw her eyes tightly closed and tears streaming down her cheeks.

Sam recoiled as she shoved against his chest. Heart pounding in shock, he bounded to his feet.

"Get away from me," she yelled as she stood up. Wide eyed and visibly shaking, she straightened her clothes with one hand while she held the other one up as if to ward him off.

Sam heard the front door opening but his focus remained on Kaylee. He didn't understand her anger and panic as she backed away from him.

"What is going on in here?" Sam's father said. His voice sounded like thunder in the small room.

"He wouldn't stop," Kaylee said. She pointed an accusing finger at Sam. Her voice sounded high pitched and angry.

"Wait, wait, what? Calm down," John said. "Sam, what's going on here?"

"We were…we were just making out, Dad, I swear. She was into it."

"He wouldn't let me up," Kaylee said.

John lowered his voice. "Okay, everyone take a breath. Kaylee? That's your name, right? I'm Sam's father. My name is John Winchester and I'll take you home now."

"Dad," Sam said. "I'm telling you, she wanted me to…"

"Sam, stop talking," John said. "We'll sort this out when I come back."

"But, Dad," Sam said.

"Enough," John said. "Sit down, be quiet and wait." He turned to Kaylee. In a softer tone he said, "Do you have a jacket or purse or anything?"

Kaylee shook her head. Sam noticed the way her hair cascaded around her shoulders. He cringed inwardly thinking he shouldn't be noticing that, not when she was upset.

"I'm sorry," Sam said. Guilt flooded him when she scurried across the room and out the door. He dropped on to the couch.

His father watched Kaylee leave then looked back at Sam with something resembling a sympathetic scowl.

"We'll talk when I get back," John said.


	2. Chapter 2

Wicked Intent

Coffeemaniac

Warnings: Suggestive situations, Violence

February, 2000

Sam leaned against the couch. He closed his eyes, cursing softly as he did. Embarrassment warred with disappointment. He didn't know whether he did something wrong, or whether she did, but he felt the weight of her anger crushing him.

He imagined her father coming over with a gun, or her mother giving him a big speech on being disappointed in his behavior. He wondered what his father was going to tell them. He wished Dean would come home but he dreaded seeing his brother too.

Sam slapped a hand over his face and cursed again. How could a night that started out so well end with such a crashing thud?

As the minutes crawled by, Sam worried about what might be happening at Kaylee's. His father often lost his temper so the confrontation between him and her parents might go badly. Or maybe his father was telling them that Sam is awkward and inept. Or worse, maybe he was agreeing that Sam unfairly tried to take advantage of their daughter.

Sam started replaying the evening with Kaylee. They kissed and touched each other at the game and during the walk back to the motel. She agreed to come inside and sit with him on the couch. What was he supposed to think? Admittedly she seemed nervous. He remembered her death grip on his shoulders. He remembered her squirming. But, why didn't she say something? He thought she was responding to him, not trying to push him away. He would never force a girl to do anything, wouldn't even consider it.

The grumbling engine of the Impala cut through the quiet. .He heard a car door slam then voices raised in anger. Sam jumped off the couch and jogged outside where he found his father and brother standing next to their car watching as a truck sped out of the parking lot, kicking up dust and gravel. John turned to Dean and grabbed his son's chin. He shifted Dean's face back and forth then let him go and slapped him on the back.

Dean followed behind their father as they passed Sam to walk into the motel room. Sam's heart jackhammered when he saw the bruise on Dean's cheek.

"What happened?" He said.

"That waitress, the one from yesterday, sic'd her brothers on me. No big deal," Dean said. He flopped on to the couch and poked lightly at the bruise. Sam noticed torn knuckles on one of his hands.

"Why?" Sam said.

"I guess she figured she could act like a whore one minute then pretend I took advantage the next." Dean made the insult sound casual

"Whoa, Dean, that's enough of that," John said. "What happened between you and her?"

"I took her to dinner then we parked near that creek at the end of town. We spent some time getting to know each other…you know…spent the night in the back of her car then she dropped me off this morning."

"You had sex with this woman," John said. Sam bit back the "obviously" wanting to come out.

"It was all good," Dean said. "I was happy, she was very happy and we went our separate ways."

"Did you call her? Did you tell her you were going to call her?"

"I don't know. I guess. I mean you can't just say 'bye', right? She knew it was a one-time thing."

John huffed out a sigh. He pushed his hair back with one hand and scratched his head. He was dressed in blue jeans with an open flannel shirt, and he looked tired.

"Sit down, boys." The exhaustion in his voice made Sam regret causing trouble.

Dean dropped on to one end of the couch while Sam perched on the other end. Sam clasped his hands in front of him waiting for the lecture he knew was coming.

John stripped off his over shirt and dropped it on the table. The green t-shirt underneath looked grungy as if he'd been spattered with mud. He pulled the chair around so he was facing them, then sat down and leaned forward in a similar stance to Sam.

"Okay, let's talk about women," he said.

"We've had the sex talk," Dean said. About a year earlier, Dean had started making flippant remarks to their father and to Sam's surprise, rarely got reprimanded for it.

"I think I've neglected something with you boys," John said. "I think you've missed something important when it comes to relationships with women, and it's probably my fault."

"Dad, I didn't try to force her," Sam said.

"I know that, son. But, you also didn't pay attention to the signals she was sending."

"Wait a minute," Dean said, shifting to face Sam. His expression seemed caught between impressed, surprised and worried. "What'd you do?"

"Nothing," Sam said. He buried his face in his hands.

"Sam, look at me," John said. He waited until Sam dropped his hands. "When you're with a girl…or a woman…you can't let yourself get so caught up in the moment that you forget to watch everything she's doing, to hear every sound she makes, not just words but sounds. Just like on a hunt, you can't get too focused on the goal, you have to watch for all the signs and signals."

"She seemed like she was into it."

"Okay, but are you sure she didn't do anything that maybe, thinking back, seemed negative? Maybe she tried to push you off or maybe she said something like she needed to get home? Was she fidgety or noisy, not in a good way, I mean."

Sam remembered her hands on his shoulders again, the way she was squirming beneath him. He remembered his mouth clamped over hers but her tongue wasn't responding to his. He covered his face again.

"Oh, God," he said. He felt his skin heating up and the knot tightening in his belly.

"I'm going to take that as a 'yes'," John said. "So, this is the most important part, you have to think of her all the time, especially with intimacy. You have to focus and pay attention. You're bigger and stronger than she is so it's your responsibility. Do you understand?"

Sam nodded vigorously but kept his face covered. He waited for the sarcasm from his brother but it didn't come.

"Now, Dean," John said. "Let's talk about you."

"Hey, Lela wanted me as much as I wanted her. I didn't push her into anything."

"Shut up and listen."

Sam dared a glance between his father and brother. Dean had stopped moving and a grim slit replaced his arrogant grin.

"Lying is lying," John said. "You tell a girl you're going to call when you're not planning to, you're lying. I didn't raise you to be a liar."

"Actually, you…"

"Shut up. Working jobs is not the same thing and you know it. Honor starts with truth and women deserve it as much as anyone. Having casual sex doesn't make her less worthy of your honesty."

"So, you're saying I should just tell her 'bye'."

"No, I'm saying you should tell her 'thank you', wish her a good day, tell her that you enjoyed the time you spent together. Be nice, be polite, be respectful. This woman has agreed to have an intimate experience and she's chosen you. Be respectful."

"It's not like I'm just an asshole. I'm nice."

"Then don't lie. Don't make promises you're not going to keep. And that goes for you too, Sam. Respect."

"Yes, sir," Sam said.

"They always kind of know," Dean said. "I mean that it's a one-time thing. It's not like I'm promising a ring."

"If they always know then her brothers wouldn't have picked you up off the street to kick your ass."

"At least they brought me home." Dean's attempt at humor fell flat.

"Yeah, well, two civilians just grabbed you off the street and kicked your ass so maybe you need to do some extra sparring."

"Dad…"

"Starting tomorrow. Both of you."

"Yes, sir," Dean said.

Sam rolled his eyes wondering how he got wrapped up in Dean's punishment.

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Sam retired to the small bedroom located in the back of the motel. He flipped the door closed then jumped into the center of the bed and rolled on to his back. He folded his hands under his head and stared at the ceiling. Since it was Friday, he had a couple of days before returning to the local high school. He dreaded going but hoped that the gossip would die down before Monday. He wondered if Kaylee went home to warn all her friends to stay away from him.

The bedroom door opened. He expected to see Dean but his father strode in instead. Sam sat up, planting his feet on the floor.

"I spoke with Kaylee's parents," John said. Sam's heart picked up in his chest. "I explained that it was a misunderstanding."

"How did that go?"

"Her mother seemed to agree that Kaylee might have some issues with overreacting. Her father was less forgiving."

"What's going to happen next? Should I call her? Apologize?"

John shook his head. "No, you shouldn't. Maybe call her in a couple days when everyone's calmed down. However, luckily for you, the job here is done."

"It was the first girl, right? Her dead brother."

"Yeah. She was leaving his belongings all over the neighborhood."

Sam shook his head. "Why would she do that?"

"She wanted to have her brother close to her. She got it into her head that if she gave his belongings to people then he'd always be near. It kind of worked, actually."

"Except he was trashing the houses looking for her."

"Yep. Once you figured out that she was the common denominator, Dean remembered seeing the brother's photo at the second house and then one of their friend's was wearing his football jersey in another house, and it just started fitting together after that."

"So you burned his bones."

"A little too much body with them actually. He's only been dead a couple of months."

Sam grimaced at the mental image but brushed it off for a more pressing concern.

"So, when are we leaving?" He hoped it was before Monday.

"Not until Thursday. I promised I'd help another hunter look into a ghoul sighting the next town over. I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon but I'll be back for you boys on Thursday night."

"Any chance I can skip school until we leave?"

John shook his head. "Sorry, son, you're going to have to face the music on this one."

"Come on, it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Of course it does."

Dean sauntered in with his usual swagger and dropped on to the other bed. His interruption stopped the argument that Sam was building up to.

"All cleaned up?" John said, referring to the scrapes and bruises Dean sustained during the fight.

"I'll survive," he said, gently touching the light bruise on his cheek. "You know, Dad, I'm really not a complete jerk when it comes to women."

"I hope not, but, you need to do better," John said.

John clapped Dean lightly on the back before he wished both of them a good night. He closed the door behind him as he left.

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When Monday arrived, Sam still felt unsettled about returning to the school. He hated being the "odd" kid anyway and now he was the "pervert" kid too. He argued with his father on Saturday morning but it didn't help. Apparently, he missed enough school due to hunts that his father didn't want to compound it because of teenage discomfort.

Sam dressed for class, took $2.00 out of their food allowance for lunch and walked two blocks to the high school. Dean had already left to work at a garage for some extra money so Sam had no one to vent to before heading out.

He arrived a few minutes early because he wanted to gauge his reception. If Kaylee spent the weekend spreading accusations, he expected some hostility. At the very least, he figured he'd get curiosity stares and he wanted to be prepared for it.

As he crossed the street he spotted Keith and Sebastian, two boys he had started eating lunch with on his first day at the high school.

Sam walked up to them, straightening his backpack as he approached. Keith had straight brown hair that he wore around his shoulders. He wore brown corduroy pants and a tie die t-shirt. Sebastian had thick black hair that he wore in a ponytail. Sam's father called them hippies.

"Hey," Keith said as a greeting.

"Hi," Sam said. "You ready for the exam today?"

"Finished the book yesterday. I'll skate by."

Sam shook his head with a grin. They were supposed to have "Pride and Prejudice" read a week earlier. Mrs. Field had been reviewing the contents all week in preparation for the exam.

"So, Sam," Sebastian said. He hesitated and Sam figured he was trying to choose his words. "What happened with you and Kaylee Sullivan after the game?"

Sam scratched his eyebrow and glanced around for eavesdroppers. With just the three of them huddled and no one else nearby, he rolled his eyes.

"Did she tell everybody?" He said.

"I don't know. My sister told me about it," Sebastian said.

"Great," Sam said, feeling the heat of the incident closing in on him.

"So, what happened?" Sebastian asked again.

"Nothing. I mean, we went back to the motel and we were…"

"Wait, wait, wait, motel?"

"Not like that. It's where I'm staying. And I don't know, she didn't want to do what we were doing, I guess, but I didn't do anything to her. She put on the brakes and that was that."

"Girls are sensitive," Keith said.

Sam wondered if that was true of all girls. When the bell rang for home room, he walked in with his friends, relieved that he wasn't the school pariah.

The rest of the day passed normally for him. Even lunch period came and went without any trouble. He didn't see Kaylee all day which was fine with him. A couple of her girlfriends glared when he passed them but he ignored their hostility. One of the guys from the football team bumped into him after history class then barked out a laugh when Sam stumbled but Sam still felt lucky. It could have been a lot worse.

After school ended, he hiked his backpack on to his shoulder and walked out into the clear, cool day with Sebastian. They split company at the end of the first block.

With their father out of town, Sam wondered what Dean planned to do about dinner. As often as not, Sam was on his own in the evenings and almost hoped his brother had plans. If Dean wasn't there, Sam could walk into town and grab some Greek food.

Just as he passed the entrance into a dirt lined alley, he stuck his hand in his pocket to pull out his cell. He grunted as his body jerked backward by a sudden yank on his backpack. Between the surprise and the weight, he stumbled landing hard with his shoulder jamming into one of the books. He rolled to one side slipping the straps off his shoulders. Before he could get to his feet, he took a hard kick to his hip. Ignoring the flare of pain, he rolled away and stood up, his leg and back throbbing as he took stock of his attackers. Robby Newman, Mark Porter and Gerry Main stood smirking at him, all three looking proud of themselves but not ready.

Sam dropped into his boxing stance. Robby laughed but before he finished, Sam darted forward, swinging hard. His fist landed perfectly against Robby's nose, the pop audible. Blood spurted but Sam had seen blood before. He sent a roundhouse punch into Mark's cheek. While Robby hopped around with his hands covering his gushing nose, Mark collapsed on to one knee. Gerry lunged forward but Sam danced out of his reach. He spun around bringing his knee up, shoving it hard into Gerry's belly.

"Stop, stop," the shrill voice broke into the sounds of grunting and complaining. Sam turned towards the alley to see Kaylee waving her hands as she ran towards them.

Mark took advantage of Sam's distraction. The punch above his kidney sent a shockwave through Sam's body. He yelled out as he crumbled to one knee. Mark sent another blow into his cheek and Sam collapsed to the ground. As he started to get his knees under him, another blow landed against the side of his head. His vision blurred as blood ran into his eye and Sam tried to rise again only to feel a boot rammed into his lower back. He fell onto his belly, just barely keeping his face above the rocks. Winded and throbbing, he tried to drag himself away from the fight, needing a couple of feet of distance. Something collided with his cheek, flipping him on to his back and sending dark spots into his eyes.

As Sam lost consciousness, he heard the taunting curses lodged at him but he couldn't register their meaning. His mind cruelly tossed up an image of Kaylee smiling at him before he didn't see anything for a while.

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Early evening with its dim light and cold wind found Sam waking near the edge of the alley. He fought it, not wanting to face his aching body or the chill but eventually, he had no choice but to roll on to his knees. Groaning with the effort, Sam managed to leverage his body off the rocky ground. He wiped at the dried blood but that was a pointless exercise. He needed water to wash up.

Weaving unsteadily on shaking legs, he tugged his cell out and phoned Dean.

"Hey, I need help," he said when his brother answered then proceeded to give him the name of the cross streets.

While he waited for Dean, Sam found his backpack then dropped it by his feet. He leaned against the back fence and inventoried his clothes. A large tear in his shirt, rips at the knees of his jeans and dusty dirt covering all of him advertised his pathetic loss. His head pounded annoyingly and his body hurt. He needed Tylenol, an ice pack and no lecture but he doubted he'd escape Dean or his father.

Dean pulled up in a beat up looking pick up. The manager at the garage had been letting him use it. Sam opened the passenger side door, tossed his backpack between them and slowly climbed in.

"Are you all right?" Dean said, anger tinging his words.

"Yeah, they hit like teenagers."

"How many?"

"Three."

"Is that all?"

Annoyed and defensive, Sam said,

"Football players."

"Just messing with you," Dean said. "Assholes jump on you, three to one, they're chicken shit."

"Well, one of them has a broken nose now so there's that."

"There is that. Let's get you cleaned up."

As they made the short trip to the motel, Sam told Dean about Kaylee's presence at his beating and that the boys were defending her.

"Bitch," Dean said.

"Small town crap," Sam said. "I can't wait to get out of here."

"They sure do like their women in this town."

Sam chuckled. "I guess."

After they arrived at the motel, Dean stayed beside him during the slow walk inside, not touching him, but hovering. As Dean locked the door behind them, he ordered Sam into the shower to clean his scrapes.

Twenty minutes later when Sam emerged, clean and damp, Dean checked his eyes, asked a few questions to determine the level of concussion then gave him three Tylenol.

"Are you hungry?" Dean said.

"How about Greek?"

"How about burgers?" Dean didn't bother to hide his disgust at the idea of feta cheese, hummus and kababs. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

Sam settled on to the couch. He put his head back and waved his agreement. The Tylenol hadn't kicked in and he hurt from his head to knees.

"Oh, by the way," Dean said before walking out. "Dad finished early. We're hitting the road tomorrow night."

If Sam's lips weren't split and oozing, he would have smiled at the news.


	3. Chapter 3

Wicked Intent

Coffeemaniac

Warnings: Suggestive situations, Violence

Season 1

Set between The Benders and Shadow

February 20, 2006

"She stood in the storm, and when the wind did not blow her away, she adjusted her sails." (Elizabeth Edwards)

Sam watched the clock turn to 12:01am and drank the last of the whiskey in his glass.

Three months, almost four months, had passed since Sam told Jessica he'd be back in a few days, since he found her burning on the ceiling, since he abandoned Stanford to find his father. Sometimes it felt like she'd been gone for a week, sometimes it felt like years. He could still imagine her warmth and smell her perfume, but sometimes he couldn't picture her in his head.

Very recently, he'd spent too much time locked in a cage while degenerate hillbillies devised interesting ways to hunt him. Consequently, Sam had been left with too much time to think. The quiet hours between terrifying encounters were filled with regrets about his lost future with Jess and he hadn't quite shaken the feelings.

He leaned over the nightstand setting the empty plastic cup there. Settling back on the motel bed, he folded his hands over his chest and stared at the water-stained ceiling.

In a few months, he'd turn 23. He and Jess had already started planning how they'd celebrate. Her birthday was January 24th, the same as Dean's and they were going to take a road trip to Vegas. Then on his birthday in May, they were going to drive the Pacific Coast Highway.

His last birthday, not quite a year ago, he had told Jess that he didn't celebrate, that he didn't need gifts or a cake and she ignored him. She invited Brady and a few other friends to meet at a campus bar despite Sam's objections. She baked a cake, decorating it herself then stood on a bar stool to pull everyone there into a rousing, drunken chorus of "Happy Birthday". Sam wanted to hate it but he didn't. Even when Brady grew a little too boisterous and they had to drive him home, Sam still counted it as one of his best birthdays ever.

He ached to celebrate with Jess again. He wanted to make her day amazing just the way she had made his.

Sam rolled on to his side wondering why he was contemplating birthdays. He tucked his arm under the pillow. Dean had left shortly after dinner to go carousing so Sam expected to be alone until morning. His brother would likely wander in around dawn, still drunk, wanting a shower and four hours of sleep before hitting the road again.

Sam set his phone alarm for eight, just in case. If Dean hadn't returned by then, he'd have to go look for him.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think of Jessica or their birthdays, or the Christmas they didn't have or the New Year's celebration they intended to have alone. He needed to focus on finding their father, and the thing that killed Jess and their mother. Nothing else mattered.

He drifted off, barely sleeping but not quite awake either. When his phone rang, he assumed it would be Dean. He picked up the small device as he rubbed his eyes. He glanced at the number and knew that it wasn't Dean, but there was no name associated with it.

"Hello," he said.

"Hi, um, is this Sam Winchester? I got this number from Zach Warren."

"Who's this?"

"My name is Kaylee Houston but Sam knew me as Kaylee Sullivan. We were in high school together for a really short time, but if this is you then you might remember me."

Sam recognized her name by the rock it created in the pit of his stomach. He remembered her by the dark hole of shame and regret that her voice conjured. After their one date that ended disastrously followed by his humiliating teenage beating no one spoke of her again and he had blocked the whole thing out of his mind.

"Yeah, Kaylee, this is Sam. I remember you."

"I'm sorry to track you down like this but I know you're involved with things that are…unusual…and I have a problem that I'm hoping…look, I know this is weird."

"How did you track me down?"

"Remember Sebastian?"

Sebastian Mumford had found Sam on MySpace and the two of them had posted messages to each other for the last year or so.

"He said you went to Stanford but you dropped out. He pointed me to a guy named Zach Warren who gave me a phone number. I told him I was an old girlfriend."

"Zach doesn't have this number."

She sighed. "Believe me, I know. I had to plug in all sorts of searches to get to this burner."

Sam scooted back in the bed, propping himself up against the creaky headboard and pushed the bangs out of his eyes. He switched the phone to his other ear.

"Why? What do you want?"

"Like I said, I'm in trouble."

Suspicion growing, he said, "What do you think you know about me?"

"I know that when you and your family were in town, one of the girls in school was having a ghost problem. I think it was a ghost problem. And then the problem went away but so did you. She never really confirmed anything but she said your dad helped her."

"So, you have a ghost problem?" Sam asked the question carefully, determined not to confirm anything yet. He kept his tone treading between amusement and concern.

"I think so. I don't know what it is. My parents," Kaylee's voice cracked. "My parents were killed last week and it was…it was odd."

Sam's mind tossed up his only memory of Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan. They were nice people.

The line grew quiet and Sam thought the call disconnected. Then Kaylee's voice came back, stronger and with less emotion. "My husband said something came out of the walls and started throwing them around. Look, I don't know what it is, but the police think Bill killed them. I don't know what to do."

Sam spun around on the bed. He put his feet on the floor as he pushed his bangs away from his face again. He didn't know if Kaylee was in denial about the murder of her parents. But, if something came out of the walls then it might be he and Dean's kind of thing.

"How about if you start from the beginning," he said. "And then I'll tell you if it's something I can help with?"

"Do we have to do this by phone, Sam?"

"If you want me to drive to Cherry Lane, I need more than what you've told me."

"Do you have a computer? You can look it up. The media is making a big deal of this. They're calling Bill's story 'the ghost defense.'"

Sam rubbed his eyes. He wanted to refuse. He needed to find his father, not investigate some random ghost event for a girl he didn't trust.

Instead of refusing, he said, "All right, let me do some research. I'll call you back in the morning."

"Will you? Really? It was very hard to find you this time."

Irritated, he almost told her to forget it but he didn't do that either.

"I said I'd call," he said.

Sam disconnected. He remembered Kaylee, with her long blond hair and smooth skin. His mind tossed out a different image though. He saw her standing by while her defenders beat the crap out of him and he shook his head.

Sam stretched and stood up. The cool room sent a spray of goosebumps over his skin but he didn't put a t-shirt on, or socks. Wearing just pajama pants, he sat down at the small table near the motel window. He opened the laptop and started searching for verification of Kaylee's story. Sam found the news stories describing Robert and Jane Sullivan's murders. Something had brutally ripped them to pieces. It was a terrible end for two decent people. As Kaylee said, her husband, Bill Houston, claimed something came out of the house walls, murdered Kaylee's parents then disappeared again. The police believed Houston killed them with serrated knives.

After confirming her story, Sam decided to go to sleep. The whiskey swished unhappily in his belly, he was cold, and Dean hadn't returned, so Sam settled back into bed. The motel blanket warmed him, and as he drifted he told himself he'd be more effective in the morning.

Sometime later he heard the room door open and felt the chill of the night sweep through. Then the door clicked shut and Dean loudly whispered, "Sammy, you awake?"

"No," Sam said. "Go to sleep. You're drunk."

"I am not."

Sam woke up enough to turn over. He found his brother hovering, probably wavering in his "non-drunk" status, between the beds.

"Then what.?" Sam said.

"You know that bartender we met a couple nights ago? Turns out she likes scruffy beards."

Sam chuckled. "Congratulations. Night, Dean."

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Dean woke Sam just after nine in the morning. He shook his brother's foot telling him to get up. Sam grumbled softly but he rolled on to his back and scratched his forehead.

"I found us a job," Dean said. "Ghost ripped up a couple over in Cherry Lane, Pennsylvania. Witness says it was ghosts."

Sam raised his eyebrows and dropped his hand to rest against his belly.

"Funny you should mention that," Sam said.

"Why? What?"

"Do you remember working a job in Cherry Lane with Dad? Back when we were kids. I was still in high school, a poltergeist thing."

Dean sat on the bed trying to remember the poltergeist cases. As he put the information together he thought about the waitress and her cranky brothers first, then the details of the case started slipping through the cracks. Then, finally, he remembered Sam's crazy girlfriend.

"Oh yeah. We both got thumped in that town and it wasn't even the case that got us into trouble."

Sam sat up, turning to face Dean as he rubbed his face.

"Kaylee Sullivan was the reason I got thumped," he said.

"How is she related to Robert and Jane?"

"That's her parents. The main suspect is her husband."

"Did you find the same case?"

Sam stood up. As he crossed the room towards the bathroom, he said, "Kaylee called me last night. She wants us to look into it."

He closed the door behind him and Dean scowled. He hated unanswered questions like 'how did she find them' and 'how did she know to find them'.

He busied himself with packing up their stuff while he waited for Sam to re-emerge. Remembering the waitress from the night before, he flipped open his phone, listened to three rings then a sleepy voice answered.

"Good morning, Amber," he said, "It's Dean."

"Oh, hey, you didn't have to leave last night," she said. "I would've been happy to make you coffee."

"Thanks, but, I'm heading out today. I just wanted to say I had a nice time. I hope you don't get in trouble for bailing on your shift."

"I'm not worried. I had a good time too. If you come back to town, give me a call."

"I have your number," Dean said. "Take care of yourself."

He disconnected the call then shoved the phone back in his pocket. He pictured her for a moment, fondly remembering the reasons he had hit on her. The snick of the bathroom door opening distracted him and he stopped thinking about Amber.

Sam walked over to his bag, still damp and wearing a towel tucked around his hips. He started digging, searching for clothes.

"So, you want to fill me in?" Dean said.

"Kaylee Sullivan, uh, Houston now, called last night. She got my number from Zach…"

"Zach and the shapeshifter Zach?"

"Yeah. Anyway, she asked me to look into her parents' murder."

"Unless you've been sending her updates, how did this girl find Zach Warren?"

"Called Stanford, got steered towards MySpace. Is it that big a stretch?"

"I think so, yeah. We're not easy to trace. Another good reason to cut ties with people."

Sam chose to ignore the last comment. "So, you want to steer away from it?" He said. "It might be a real case, Dean. She sounded pretty scared."

Dean started to tell him that he wanted to give the case to another hunter. They hadn't spoken to Bobby Singer in a while but he figured a phone call to him would get someone else to investigate.

A knock on the motel room door stopped him.

Dean looked at Sam who shook his head. Sam lifted the Taurus out of his bag then backed into the bathroom, standing to one side of the doorway. Dean pulled the Colt semi-automatic from the holster laying on the bed.

Whoever was knocking, knocked again.

Dean looked through the peephole to see a petite blonde woman standing outside. Dressed in a heavy overcoat she could easily be hiding any sort of weapon. She clearly was not a motel housekeeper but she looked human. He opened the door a few inches.

"Can I help you?"

"My name is Kaylee Houston. I'm looking for Sam Winchester," the woman said. She fixed a set of blue eyes on him but her lips stayed pressed together.

"Wrong room," Dean said but his chest clenched at her words.

"No, it's not. He checked in as Curtis Hofstetter but I know it's him."

"You have the wrong room."

"And you're Dean. Apparently you're not as dead as St. Louis reported."

Dean tossed open the door, grabbed her arm and pulled her into the room. She squeaked in surprise. Kicking the door closed, he flung her towards the center of the room and trained his gun on her.

"Wait, wait," she said. Her voice quavered. "Please. I'm sorry."

"How did you find us?" Dean said.

"GPS. GPS, okay? I hacked into Sam's phone after I called last night."

"That's not possible," Sam said. He entered the room, still wrapped in a towel but holding the Taurus.

"Yes, it is," Kaylee said. "If you're me. I could find an ant in a dust storm if it was carrying a cell phone, okay? I'm telling you."

"Bullshit," Dean said.

"It's what I do. I used to work for a cell phone designer. I helped write the application codes. Look, I just, I really need your help and I didn't think you'd call me back. After…what happened in high school…"

"You made a mistake," Dean said. "And you need to go."

Kaylee glanced towards the door then back at Dean. She hugged her arms to her chest.

"My husband will go to prison," she said. "He'll get the death penalty. I thought you two helped people with problems like this. How can you just tell me to leave?"

"I don't trust you," Dean said. "You call Sam out of nowhere with some weird connection to a friend of his and then you track us here? I don't think so."

Kaylee looked away from Dean towards Sam. The pleading look in her eyes, the shimmer of unshed tears irritated Dean because he knew what his brother would say next.

"My brother is right," Sam said.

Kaylee and Dean both said "What?"

"Find someone else to help," Sam said. "Assuming you're really in trouble, which…I don't know."

Her pleading look darted between them. She swiped at her eyes and shook her head. For a moment, she stared at the floor, apparently composing herself. A tiny light of remorse sparked inside him but Dean reminded himself that she crashed into their lives like a train wreck. They owed her nothing and he didn't trust her.

"All right, look, my husband isn't the only one in trouble. I'm being followed, stalked or something and I can't…look, I have to go out to my car. Will you please let me back in?"

"There's no reason to let you back in," Dean said.

"Just give me five more minutes and if I can't convince you then I'll give up and go. I'm really scared so, please…"

Dean glanced back at Sam. They both shrugged at the same time.

"All right," Sam said. "Who do you think is following you?"

"I have to go out to my car."

Kaylee spun around and walked out.

"What the hell?" Dean said to Sam.

Sam grabbed his clothes off the bed and went back in the bathroom. He dressed quickly with the handgun close by. He listened for the front door, wanting to be out there when she came back. If Kaylee was setting some sort of trap, he wanted to be ready. He didn't really think she was, knew the past was interfering with his judgment, but he refused to take any chances.

He returned to the main room to find Dean still standing near the front door, still holding the ivory handled Colt in his hand.

A knock on the door signaled Kaylee's return. Dean opened the door then stepped back several feet. He dropped the gun to hang at his side. Sam did the same.

Against her chest, Kaylee held an infant wrapped in a pink blanket. Brown waves curled from the baby's head and Sam noticed one of its tiny hands curled around the collar of Kaylee's jacket. Kaylee was gently patting the child's back as she stood to one side of the door.

"What is that?" Dean said.

"This is my daughter, Rose." She smiled as she said it.

She shifted the baby and looked into her face. She cooed at her before looking back up at Sam.

"If I'm in danger then so is she," Kaylee said. "I really do need your help."


	4. Chapter 4

Wicked Intent

Coffeemaniac

Warnings: Suggestive situations, Violence

Season 1

Set between The Benders and Shadow

Sam thundered across the crumbly asphalt in the middle of the motel parking lot. The bright, cold morning irritated him. He paced by Dean twice while his brother stood, arms hanging loosely at his sides and an unreadable expression on his face. Dean's silent observation only infuriated Sam more. Finally, Sam stopped.

"What do we do now?" He said, his tone demanding and deep.

"She's your girlfriend."

Sam tossed his hands up. "Seriously?"

"We can't desert a mother and baby without even checking into it. If she's lying, we'll find out fast enough."

"I don't trust her."

"Then we approach it like any other case. Let's do the research and see what shakes out."

Sam shook his head. "You really want to help her?"

"I don't want to see a headline about a dead infant."

Sam scowled, hating the mental image Dean's words evoked. He thrust his hands into his pockets and took a long, slow breath. He glanced towards the motel room door where Kaylee and her baby waited for them. Torn between wanting to do their job of saving innocents, and not trusting the victim, he didn't want to go back inside.

"How do we even know the baby is hers?" Sam said. "She just conveniently has one the minute we kick her to the curb?"

Dean shook his head, and rolled his eyes. "You really think she borrowed it?"

No, of course not, Sam thought.

"No, I don't think she…I still don't like it."

Dean scowled and waited. Silently.

Sam sighed. In a lowered tone, he said, "What about finding Dad? What about finding the thing that killed Jess and Mom?"

"We don't know where Dad is. Until something turns up or he contacts us, there's not much we can do."

Sam shoved his hands in his pockets. "I hate this."

"I know," Dean said. "I want to find him too. But, in the meantime, we can do this."

It took another minute to prepare himself, but grudging every step, Sam followed behind Dean back to the room. Dealing with Kaylee irritated him, made him uneasy. If it weren't for the baby, he wouldn't.

Dean opened the motel room door. Sam hesitated when he felt a change in the air around him. It felt like a small, electrical surge but it passed quickly. He trusted his instincts but the sensation came and went in a flash, and he wasn't sure it happened.

As he crossed the threshold, he found Kaylee sitting on the bed with Rose at her breast. The baby murmured softly as it ate. The pink blanket lay on Kaylee's knee. She looked up at them without any embarrassment but Dean tossed a surprised look over his shoulder at Sam. Sam gave him a small shrug knowing it shouldn't be uncomfortable but feeling odd about her exposure anyway.

Dean turned away from her, speaking towards Sam even as he addressed her. Sam found himself doing the same thing.

"So, tell us about the days leading up to the attack. Was there anything unusual? Weird sounds or smells, anything with the lights in the house…anything you can remember?"

"Not like that, no. But, Rick was staying there because he'd just got back from Japan. He had come home a few days early and I guess he was waiting for his house sitter to move out. He and my parents were acting odd."

"What do you mean?" Sam said.

"They were, I don't know, maybe nervous? It's hard to explain because it wasn't blatant. But, like Rick, I mean, he's always quiet but he was almost antisocial," Kaylee said.

"And your parent's were different too?" Sam said, still looking at Dean.

"I knew there was something bothering them," Kaylee said.

"Was Rick still living there when the attack happened?" Dean said.

"It's okay now, boys, she's done," Kaylee said.

Sam turned towards them to see that Rose was propped against Kaylee's shoulder with a white cloth beneath her. Kaylee was patting her back.

"I talked to him the day after he went back to his place," she said. She rocked slowly as she spoke. "Now that I'm thinking about it, he was a lot happier. Much more like his old self. He was joking with me…laughing…he was in a weird, goofy mood."

Sam wondered if Rick was happy because he had left his parents' house. Maybe he felt something there that had made him uneasy. Kaylee's description of her brother sounded like relief.

"But, my parents were the same," she said. "My mom told me she wanted to sell and my dad just sat outside as much as he could."

"And all this coincided with Rick's return from Japan, right?" Dean said.

"I'd never heard my mom complain about that house until then. That's why I know that it wasn't some intruder that killed them. It has to be related to the house."

"It might not be the house," Sam said. "It might be something that followed Rick from Japan or maybe, Rick himself."

"My brother didn't kill them. He wouldn't…couldn't. And even if I didn't know that, the police cleared him."

"It doesn't have to be your brother," Sam said. "He might have brought something back with him."

Sam looked towards Dean. "We should go to the house," he said.

Kaylee shifted the baby and Rose let out a surprisingly loud burp. Moving her to her lap, Kaylee wiped her mouth then stood up. Setting the baby on the bed, she began bundling her back up.

"She needs to be changed," she said. "I guess you'll let me know if you find anything."

"Wait," Dean said. "Why do you think you and the kid are in danger?"

Kaylee hesitated. She glanced away from him then back again.

"It's more of a feeling," she said. "Like someone's in the room when there isn't anyone there. Like a pressure sometimes, at my back. I don't if I'm just being paranoid but after what happened, I'm afraid. For her and me."

"Are there cold spots, maybe unexplained mist, flickering lights, anything like that?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Cold spots, I mean. But, it's random, you know? I could say it's the wind or the weather changing. It's not consistent like in one place but I do have this feeling of dread a lot. The only way I can describe it is that it's like someone is watching us. I can feel a presence even when there's no one there."

"And it feels like negative energy?" Sam said, knowing that malevolent spirits tended to feel evil or angry.

"When it's bad, I break out in goosebumps. I know it's a cliché but I can feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up."

"Other than sensations, has anything else happened?"

Kaylee shook her head. "But, I feel like it's going to."

She shifted the baby so she had one arm wrapped across her and hooked under Rose's arms. Rose stared out, her blue eyes drifting between Sam and Dean. She gurgled and smiled. A tiny trail of drool slipped down her chin.

"I really need to get her changed. She's going to start stinking up the place."

Dean widened his eyes, apparently alarmed.

"If you have any problems, head to the main lobby. Call us after you're there. Don't wait for something to happen," Sam said.

Kaylee nodded her agreement. Carrying Rose, a diaper bag and a purse, she walked out into the cool afternoon.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

An hour later, Dean maneuvered the Impala around the twisting, country roads heading towards the former home of Bob and Jane Sullivan. Cherry Lane was a small town populated by farmers and factory workers. According to local newspapers, the killings had rocked the community since no one had ever been murdered there before.

"The police chief instituted a curfew the day after the murders," Sam said as he flipped through a thin newspaper.

"That's extreme," Dean said.

"Small town thing. Afraid of a copycat," Sam said.

Thumbing through the folder, he continued. "Bill was the only one in the house. According to his statement, he stopped by to pick up Rose and something dark appeared from nowhere and attacked him. He got knocked down and blacked out. When he came to, the Sullivan's were dead."

"The ghost must have assumed he was dead already," Dean said.

"Yeah. If he's telling the truth."

"Rose was in the house? Wonder why she was spared."

"Infant?"

"Not really a barrier for most monsters." He hated the words as soon as he spoke them.

For a moment, he imagined Kaylee's infant shredded, and he shuddered.

Deliberately changing the subject, Dean said, "So, what's with you and Kaylee? Why don't you like her?"

Sam scowled. "That should be obvious."

"Everyone is an idiot in high school. You're still carrying a grudge?"

"First of all, how would you know?"

Dean scowled. He hadn't finished high school but he had attended through his sophomore year.

"And secondly, it's not that." Sam sighed. "Not all of it."

While Dean waited for him to explain, Sam turned his gaze towards the passenger side window. Rubbing his eyes, he finally looked back at Dean.

"She was the first girl I ever…tried to…"

"Boink?"

"Seriously?"

Dean shrugged.

"Okay, yes," Sam said. "And her reaction made me question everything after that. For years."

"It wasn't that long before you nailed Coraline Webber."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah…I know… but still it…for a while I was hyper aware of everything."

"That's not a bad thing."

"It's not great either. It's just…look, if she was a man, I could punch her in the mouth and it'd be over…but, she's not."

"Probably shouldn't punch her," Dean said. "On the other hand, if she was a man, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Sam chuckled.

"She was young, Sammy," Dean said. "Probably a virgin. She panicked. I don't think you need to hold a grudge…"

"I'm not…"

"Or question everything you did that night. You were young too. Inexperience can lead to stuff, right? No one was at fault."

"Then Dad gave us the big speech about women that was all kinds of uncomfortable."

Dean nodded. He remembered their father's talk. It was the first time he really discussed females as needing to be treated differently than men. Dean had watched his father throughout his life and learned by example about holding doors, speaking politely, not cursing in front of women but "the talk" shined a new light on the subject.

"This is the exit," Sam said.

Dean turned off the freeway and on to Cherry Lane. He followed Sam's GPS directions to the house where the Sullivan's were murdered. Yellow police tape still covered the front door. He parked on the street and took a long look up and down the neighborhood. It seemed like one of those quiet suburban places where the bad stuff is covered up.

He walked to the trunk so he and Sam could retrieve their shotguns, salt rounds, knives and holy water. They both carried handguns as well.

"According to the police report, it looks like Jane was attacked first," Sam said. "Bob walked in on it and was killed second. They don't know if the killer intended to murder both of them. Rose was in a crib that they kept in the study."

"Who called the police?"

"A neighbor heard Bill calling for help."

Dean rolled his eyes. He didn't understand why people always panicked at crime scenes.

He strode up to the front door, pushed the caution tape out of his way and plugged Kaylee's key into the lock. Carefully, stepping over the threshold, Dean hesitated until Sam joined him then the two of them moved into the living room. Dean's mutilated Walkman-turned-EMT detector started beeping angrily.

"That's not good," Sam said.

Even as Sam spoke the words, Dean caught a glimpse of something near the dining room entryway. Tall and shadowy, the figure looked like someone peeking around the wall. Dean tapped Sam's arm and pointed. The two of them started moving slowly forward, both of them holding shotguns loaded with salt. As they reached the threshold, Dean noticed the smell of black licorice floating around him

"You smell that?" He said.

"Yeah," Sam said. "Licorice…wait…look." He pointed towards the kitchen.

Standing in the corner of the room, a willowy, woman with Asian features glared at them. She wore a long dress that fluttered as if a breeze blew it. Thin black hair floated around her shoulders. Just as Dean turned in her direction, she shimmered out of view only to drop back in just a few inches from him.

Dean flinched backward and she hissed through blackened teeth.

Clenching his finger on the trigger, he fired just as she shoved out with both hands. Dean took the blow to his chest and tumbled backward into the wall. The ghost blew apart. Sam spun, searching for her while Dean pushed up from the floor. His chest hurt but he barely felt it as he scanned the room.

"Okay, it's a ghost," Sam said.

"Ghost," Dean said, agreeing with the obvious statement.

The woman appeared again behind Sam. She screamed out, something guttural and jumbled, something foreign. Sam flinched at the sudden noise. The locks of her hair curled upward almost like coiling snakes.

Heart pounding with adrenaline, Dean yelled out a warning to duck and Sam dropped to the floor. Dean blasted her and she dissipated only to return immediately. She slammed her hands into Dean's chest again and sent him airborne into the living room.

Sam shot her from where he crouched on the floor then scrambled back up as she puffed out of view. Dean moved too, getting to his feet while shaking off the jarring flight. Just as he straightened, the ghost shot up from the floor, directly behind Sam. She drove into his back and Sam grunted, sprawling forward and dropping the shotgun as he slammed both hands against the dining room table to keep from falling.

Dean shot her again. She screamed as she smoked away.

Grabbing Sam's arm, he yelled, "Retreat."

They didn't know the identity of the spirit and there was no way to destroy her until they did.

Just as Sam reached for the gun, she dropped beside him, hissing loudly into his face. Her hair glinted in the light, clacking like metal. Dean squinted, trying to make sense of it when she drove her fist into Sam's abdomen. Her whole hand and half her arm disappeared inside him. Sam yelled as he lurched backward. Like Medusa, her hair, now clinking with silver knives instead of snakes lashed towards Sam's face. He dove towards the floor, avoiding her stabbing locks and landing with a thud.

Dean fired his last salt round. The ghost screamed in frustration, or pain, or anger, and disappeared.

Sam staggered to his feet, bringing the shotgun with him. Dean held his arm as they stumbled towards the living room. The ghost shimmered into view again. Sam turned the gun on her as her lethal hair stabbed towards him. She caught his shoulder in a slice and he flailed, firing as he thumped to one knee.

Dean pulled him up, furiously cursing while they made their way to the door.

The ghost appeared again, screaming the same guttural noise. Stark white skin made her red soaked eyes glow inside her skeletal face. Her hair clicked and clanked as she screeched and waved her arms like a puppeteer was pulling her strings.

"Bitch," Sam said as he fired again.

The licorice odor made Dean's eyes burn as they reached the door. While the spirit snarled over jagged teeth they pushed outside on to the porch. Clinging to Sam, Dean stumbled down the steps, righting both of them as they hit the sidewalk. Sam steadied and the two of them jogged to the Impala, both of them breathing hard.

Dean cursed as he started the engine.

Pulling away from the curb he said, "You all right?"

Breathing hard and holding his shoulder, Sam said, "Yeah. You?"

"Who was that bitch?"

His heart was slowing but nausea lingered as the adrenaline eased off.

"I don't know," Sam said, wincing and shifting in his seat.

Dean drove to an empty parking lot and pulled over. He took a moment to breathe a few calming breaths before getting out and going around to the trunk. Opening it, he pulled out the first aid kit and moved around to the passenger side.

Sam leaned forward to give him a look at the gash in his back and Dean clicked his teeth.

"Well, you'll live," Dean said. "It's not too deep."

Sam fell silent while Dean cleaned the shallow slice in his brother's shoulder. Dean made sure the ghost hadn't left anything foreign behind then he bandaged the wound. Sam stayed still, not speaking or complaining, but he fisted his hands through the procedure.

Once the first aid was done, Dean made his way back to the driver's side, stopping to put away the kit, then sliding back into the car.

"How are we going to track a Chinese ghost?" He said.

"Japanese," Sam said. "And I don't know. We'll have to trace Rick's steps. Do you think he brought a body back with him?"

"Why would he?"

Sam shrugged then winced and rubbed his neck.

"Maybe he brought back a person and killed her," Dean said.

"Sounds more likely than a body."

"What was the licorice scent?"

Dean massaged his arm, trying to ease the throbbing bruise.

Sam didn't respond for a moment. Then he said, "Maybe not licorice. Might've been incense, uh, anise…star anise, maybe."

"Figures you'd know about that. Hippie," Dean said, enjoying Sam's huff of indignation.

"It comes from a Japanese tree, or plant, I think," Sam said. "It's toxic if you eat it."

Dean scowled. "Did Rick bring back a tree?"

"I don't know. Let's go talk to Kaylee and see if she got hold of him. I think it's time we had a conversation with her brother."

Dean agreed.


	5. Chapter 5

Wicked Intent

Coffeemaniac

Warnings: Suggestive situations, Violence

Season 1

Set between The Benders and Shadow

When they arrived at the motel, Sam examined his stomach and chest using the bathroom mirror. When the ghost shoved her hand inside him it had felt like being stabbed with an icicle. He was surprised to find the only evidence was some redness on his skin.

Dean had suffered some bruises though he complained that his head hurt.

They both took Tylenol then Dean took his turn in going to pick up dinner and beer. Sam opened his laptop to start trying to find anything about a ghost with lethal hair.

By the time Dean returned with tacos, refried beans and Tecate, Sam was deep into websites. Research felt like following a rope through a maze. Once he obtained the end he just needed to keep tugging until he found the answer.

Kaylee called at some point to say that she hadn't been able to reach Rick. She pinged his cell and knew that the phone was at his apartment. She assumed that her brother was with the phone. She also told Sam that she intended to visit her husband, Bill, at the jail in the morning.

When Sam told her about the ghost at her parents' home, she grew silent on the other end of the line. When she spoke again, her voice was shrill with emotion.

"I knew it," she said. "Damn it, I knew there was something. Oh my God, it killed them. It could have killed Bill."

Sam tried to calm her down but she finally said that Rose needed her and hung up.

"She didn't take the news about the ghost too well," Sam said as he dropped his phone on the table.

"Yeah, well, a monster killed her family," Dean said.

Sam nodded. After the supernatural death of their mother, they both knew too much about that.

"The trick will be getting proof to exonerate Bill," Sam said.

"Exonerate, huh? Those college years are paying off, I guess."

"Shut up." There was no heat in his words and Dean chuckled.

"She'll be all right," Dean said. "Give her a minute and she'll realize the ghost means that her husband and brother are in the clear."

With the food growing cold beside him, Sam sat back from his computer. He folded his arms across his chest.

Dean gathered up the remains of his wrappers and took a fresh beer out of the six pack. Tossing the trash away, he sat on the end of the bed, set the bottle on the floor and started taking off his boots.

Sam returned to the laptop, following up on some Japanese monsters. As he clicked through screens, he stopped on one with a full color picture.

Looking over at Dean, he said, "Hey, isn't there something in Dad's journal about a Harionago?"

Dean's eyes scrunched up for a moment before he answered. "Uh, yeah, maybe. Hang on a second."

Crossing the room to where he dropped his duffle, Dean dug around inside until he found the leather bound book. He brought it back to the table then started thumbing through the pages.

Stopping about three quarters of the way through, he read out loud. "Harionago. Japanese ghost with hair that turns into blades or razors. Never seen one. Singer says they're rare."

He pushed the journal towards Sam saying, "He drew this."

The crude picture showed an emaciated female with long, black hair and black eyes. The hair had knives and claws extending from the bottom locks.

Sam turned his laptop around to show Dean. The brightly colored picture on the screen resembled the drawing.

"Well, she looks like a fun date," Dean said.

Sam turned the laptop back around and read, "Says that they used to be maidens…I'm guessing unmarried… and, in most cases, they were murdered. As ghosts they wander back roads searching for men. If the man shows interest in her, her hair goes from normal to filled with barbs and claws and she kills him with it."

"I don't remember a proposition," Dean said.

"I don't either but she was screaming in Japanese so who knows what she was saying. And how many Japanese ghosts with razor hair could there be?"

"Not many. At least I hope not."

Sam turned the computer around again. He showed Dean the photo of a painting that showed a young Japanese woman with black hair tied into a tight circle on the top of her head. Dressed in layered silk robes, her hands were hidden in wide sleeves and her lips were pressed into a slight smile.

"This is Hatsu. According to the lore, she was a commoner who was led away from her family home by a man. He took her into the woods, raped her then stabbed her to death."

"So, she's luring men in the way she was lured then she kills them."

"Right. According to this, Hatsu was the first but her death cursed the family so now when one of her female ancestors is murdered, that one becomes a Harionago too."

"But, they're still ghosts, right? So, they have to be attached to something."

"Not so much. When a Harionago rises, she's free to stalk men at will. But…" Sam clicked through a few screens. "But, it says that they can be bound to an item with a spell… I don't know why someone would do that…but, if they did, she'd be attached to it just like any ghost."

"So, if you burn the item, you kill the ghost," Dean said. "What if there's no item, how do you kill it?"

"Exorcism. The spell I'm looking at is almost the same as the one for demons."

"Do you have to do it in Japanese?"

Sam stopped. He hadn't thought of that. A moment later he dismissed it. "Shouldn't. I doubt the demons we exorcise speak Latin."

Dean pointed his finger at him. "Good point."

"Kaylee's been feeling its presence," Sam said. "It might be attached to something Rick brought back."

"Why would he do that?"

"Mad at his family, maybe. Or he did something and didn't realize what would happen."

Dean looked away, apparently thinking about that. Headlights flashed across the curtain in the room. Dean walked over to the window and looked out.

"Huh," he said.

"What?" Sam said.

"It's Kaylee. She's parking. Now she's getting the baby."

Sam turned his attention back to the computer. "She was pretty upset about the ghost at the house," he said. "Probably needed to get out of the room."

Dean joined Sam at the table and the two of them worked together hoping to find the Harionago that followed Rick. After a couple of hours, Dean surrendered and settled into his bed, watching television until he fell asleep.

Sam ate cold food while he searched for any deaths similar to the Sullivan's on local news sites. When his eyes grew too heavy to continue, Sam shut down the computer and went to bed.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

The next day, Kaylee arrived at their motel room with Rose sitting in a stroller. The diaper bag was tucked in the bottom and Rose was covered up to her chin due to the chilly morning.

When Dean opened the door, he grinned at the box of donuts balanced on the stroller cover.

"Breakfast of champions," Kaylee said. Her eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles but she gave him a smile anyway.

"Come on in," Dean said. "Sam's at the office buying a newspaper. You have any problems last night?"

"Miracle of miracles, Rose slept straight through, nearly seven hours. It was wonderful."

"Congratulations?" Dean said, not sure how to answer. "But what I meant, was there any weirdness?"

Kaylee rolled her eyes, her cheeks coloring lightly. "Oh, yeah, of course, um, no. Nothing."

"Did you get any sleep?" Dean said.

"Not much. I can't help thinking about the way my parents died. How terrifying it must have been."

Wearing blue jeans and a gray sweatshirt, Kaylee looked younger than she had the night before. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail and she wore just a touch of make-up.

"It doesn't help anyone," Dean said. "You or them, by letting your imagination run away. Focus on the good stuff."

He picked up the box of donuts and set it on the dining table then went into the small kitchenette and grabbed some napkins.

When he came back, Kaylee was lifting Rose out of the stroller. Straightening up, she carried the baby to the middle of the floor then shook out a pink blanket with a silk border and set Rose down on her tummy. Rose pushed up with her arms and smiled in Dean's direction.

Kaylee returned to the table. Opening the box of donuts, she chose one covered in glaze. She snatched one of the napkins and set her breakfast on it. Tearing off a small piece, she popped it into her mouth and chewed slowly while her fingers tore off another small piece.

"Dean," she said, turning serious eyes on him. "I don't want to take Rose to the jail. Bill doesn't want her in that place and neither do I."

Chewing on an oversized bite of a chocolate donut, Dean said, "You must know a friend or someone who can watch her."

Sam walked through the door carrying the local paper tucked under his arm and two Styrofoam cups of coffee. He handed one of them to Dean as he greeted Kaylee. Glancing towards the floor, he gave Rose a grin and she gurgled back at him.

"Not really," Kaylee said to Dean. She ate more of the donut and Dean figured at the rate she was consuming it, they'd never get out of the room.

"We don't live in town," she said after swallowing. "Rick can't do it…obviously. My husband is in jail and I can't think of anyone to call."

"What are we talking about?" Sam said.

"She wants you to watch the baby while we're gone," Dean said. "Also, she brought donuts."

Sam's eyes widened as he took a step backward towards the door. "You watch the baby. I'll take her to the jail," he said.

"No, wait," Kaylee said. Her eyes shimmered as she swallowed hard then turned to look at Rose. She dropped the bite of donut on to the napkin. "You know what? I shouldn't have said anything. Rose is young. It's not like she'll remember seeing her father in handcuffs. Forget I mentioned it."

"You can't take her to a jail," Sam and Dean said in unison.

She turned back to them shaking her head. "I don't know what else to do."

"I'll watch her," Dean said. "Sam can take you to see your husband."

"You don't know how to take care of a baby," Sam said.

"I can field strip an automatic and exorcize demons, I'm pretty sure I can handle one infant."

Dean looked at Kaylee. "Can you write out some instructions?" He said.

"Sure, of course," she said, but uncertainty lingered in her eyes.

"Do that," Dean said. He turned back to Sam. "It's going to be fine. She's been laying on that blanket for fifteen minutes and hasn't moved three inches. How hard can it be?"

Sam took a long breath and blew it out slowly.

Kaylee touched Dean's arm. She smiled up at him and he thought she recovered quickly from her teary concern about asking for help.

"I have bottled breast milk. There's plenty of everything in her bag. I'll write down the basics and you have my number so…"

Choosing to ignore that she had probably manipulated him, Dean watched Kaylee walk over to the baby, crouch down beside her and pat her back. Rose made some sounds and Kaylee tickled under the baby's chin. Standing back up, Kaylee tugged the diaper bag free then rifled through it until she came up with a soft looking giraffe. She stroked it across the baby's hand then set it down. Rose touched it and tried to grab it with her fingers.

Kaylee stood back up again. Sitting down at the small table, she started writing on the motel stationary. She finished her donut while she wrote. Dean wolfed down three and finished his coffee. Sam sat on the edge of the bed watching Rose with the intensity he normally reserved for hunting.

Sam said, "So, I didn't get a chance to give you all the details last night."

"Yeah, sorry," Kaylee said. She stopped writing and turned to face him.

Sam explained the Harionago to her, and that Rick probably brought it back. After he finished she grew quiet for a few moments. Dean watched her, looking for signs of a breakdown but it didn't come.

When she finally spoke, she said, "If you know how to kill it then why not just kill it?"

"We have to find out if it's attached to an object," Dean said. "And what that object is."

"If it's bound to something at my parents' house then it was released on them. Who would do that?"

"It could've been an accident," Sam said. "People tend to underestimate the power of things like this. We won't know until I talk to Bill and Rick."

"Bill didn't go to Japan," she said then stopped, probably realizing that she just implicated her brother.

"One thing at a time," Sam said.

Abruptly, she handed Dean the notepad. He guessed she wanted to stop talking about the ghost and her family so he read it through then spent a couple of minutes asking questions.

Kaylee picked Rose up from the floor. She hugged the baby and kissed her on the cheek then asked Dean if he was sure he could watch her.

Stuffing down doubts, he said he was.


	6. Chapter 6

Wicked Intent

Coffeemaniac

Warnings: Suggestive situations, Violence

Season 1

Set between The Benders and Shadow

Sam drove towards Cherry Lane with Kaylee sitting in the passenger seat. With lips pressed together and hands clasped firmly in her lap, he could see her nervousness. He glanced at her from time to time, wondering if he should speak or just drive. Since she showed up at their door, he had been angry and unsettled. Despite knowing that her fears about a ghost had been proven, he still didn't quite trust her. He wondered if she felt the same way about him.

"I didn't plan it," she said. Her voice was louder than necessary.

"Didn't plan what?"

"That thing after…the boys jumping you in the alley. I didn't ask them to do it."

Remembering his humiliating beat down by a bunch of high school students still rankled him. He hated losing the fight and being blamed for something that he hadn't done. Or maybe having people believe he assaulted her was the real thing. Thinking about it sent a shiver of anger through him.

"You were there," Sam said.

"Yeah. I was there with my best friend, Jenny Porter. I called her the night before and she told her brother, Mark."

The face of Mark Porter, smirking and trying to look tough flashed into Sam's mind. Then the same boy, surprised when Sam fought back, flashed.

"If you were there, you knew. And you didn't stop it."

"Jenny didn't tell me what Mark and his friends were planning until after school."

Sam scoffed. "It was a long time ago."

Her eyes narrowed and she captured her bottom lip with her teeth. Sitting up straighter, she said, "I just wanted you to know that I was angry but I didn't plan it."

"All right, now I know."

She flexed her hands then squeezed them into fists. "You broke Robby's nose."

Sam pulled into a space in the visitor's section of the police building, slamming the car into park harder than he should have.

"He was asking for it," he said.

"So were you."

"Excuse me?"

She didn't hear him. After dropping her remark, she shoved the car door open and strode across the asphalt towards the front door. Sam wanted to stop her, to get her to explain, but he knew better than to take her arm or physically block her from walking away when they were surrounded by police and cameras.

Instead he followed her inside. They crossed a tiled room with chairs set against stucco walls and then to the reception desk. A gray haired woman, plump and wearing a flowered dress, sat behind plexiglass. She kept a nameplate identifying her as Mrs. Mumford on a shelf, in view for the public. Mrs. Mumford slid open the divider when Kaylee approached. With a scornful expression the receptionist greeted her.

"How can I help you, Mrs. Houston?"

"I'm here to see Bill," Kaylee said.

"I'll clear it," Mrs. Mumford said.

"If he's available, I'd like to see the Chief first. I have some questions about the investigation."

The older woman slid the divider back in place, turned her back on the window and picked up the phone receiver. She pressed a couple of buttons but her voice was muffled.

"They're supposed to running Bill's clothes for blood evidence," Kaylee said to Sam as if she hadn't just told him that he deserved a beating for the misunderstanding during their date.

Mrs. Mumford slid the plexiglass open again to tell them that Chief Prentice would be out in a moment.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Chief Baron Prentice folded his hands over an ample belly and sent a commiserating glance towards Sam. He had thinning brown hair combed over a bald spot and thick jowls.

"I need to know how the investigation…" Kaylee said.

"Mrs. Houston," the Chief interrupted with a slow drawl. "I understand this is painful for you. You experienced a terrible loss and now it's difficult to see the truth."

"Did you find DNA from Bill on either…"

"This isn't a television show," he interrupted again. He looked at Sam. "An eyelash isn't going to clear her husband."

"You told me that you sent Bill's clothing to the lab," Kaylee said, her even tone showing her frustration. "Did you find any blood on them?"

Still looking at Sam, Prentice said, "These things take time."

Annoyance flaring, Sam said, "I didn't ask the question. She did. But, it's a good one, don't you think?"

"You're not doing her any favors by building up this idea."

"She has a right to know if the investigation implicates her husband."

"Excuse me," Kaylee said. "My parents were torn to pieces. If Bill did it, he would have been covered…"

"Your husband did it, Mrs. Houston. The cameras on the outside of the house show he was the only one in or out. I'm sorry. I know you have a little one to think about but those are the facts."

"You haven't even bothered to look for another suspect."

The Chief's soft, pudgy face reddened. He sat forward, the chair squeaking under his weight.

"You do not get to tell me how to do my job. I've pulled Houston's file, I know what kind of man he is. The question is, what kind of woman marries his type?"

Anger flashed and Sam pushed forward in his chair.

Kaylee stood up first.

"You arrogant son of a bitch," she said through gritted teeth. "Just have Bill brought up before I call every paper from here to DC and report your incompetency."

Prentice shot to his feet, red faced and angry. Sam stood too, wondering if he'd have to slam the Chief into his desk.

"You think you scare me?" Prentice said. "You and the damn ghost story?"

"Hey, hey," Sam said. "Look. All we need to do is see her husband."

"Yes," Kaylee said, biting off the word. "I'd like to see my husband now." Her voice was hard and even.

Prentice stared at Sam for a long moment while his hand hovered above the service weapon on his hip. He looked back at Kaylee and blew out a breath. Sam was certain the lawman wanted to deny her access but he was probably wondering if it would be worth the trouble. After a moment, he picked up the phone receiver and called for an escort.

"See? No need to get all upset," Prentice said. Sam hated the condescension in his tone.

A boy who looked too young to be a police officer appeared in the doorway. His uniform hung off him as if he was wearing his father's clothes.

"Haskett, take Mrs. Houston and Mr. Winchester to the jail," the Chief said. "Keep to the twenty-minute visitation time. I don't want them agitating the prisoner."

Sam forcibly prevented himself from pointing out that the twenty-minute limit was retribution against him Kaylee.

"Yes, sir, Chief," Officer Haskett said.

Kaylee followed Haskett then Sam followed her. Haskett opened a door labeled as Interview B and told them to wait there. Kaylee pulled a metal backed chair away from the stark, white table. With no carpeting and just a tile ceiling, the room retained a soft echo.

Sam sat next to her, looking around the small enclosure while he imagined throwing Prentice through a window.

"The Chief is an ass," Sam said.

She pursed her lips as she nodded. "He's been re-elected for the last five terms. I think my parents voted for him."

"Is he always like that?"

"Yes, but, I haven't reacted before. Sorry for getting angry. It's a mistake to lose my temper when he holds all the cards, Sam. If I cause trouble, he could deny me visitation. And even if I get to see Bill, I have to leave him here. What if Prentice takes his anger out on him?"

"He won't. Won't risk it."

Changing the subject, Sam said, "What was he talking about? About Bill's record?"

She shook her head. "Ancient history. Bill got into some trouble with on-line gambling when he was a teenager."

"What happened?"

"A convenience store hold up. One store…out of desperation. But he brought his father's gun with him and when he was picked up, they charged him with armed robbery plus the under-aged gambling."

"One store and he got caught? Not exactly Dillinger, is he? How much time did he serve?"

"Sixteen months of a two-year sentence. But he finished getting his high school diploma and did a year's worth of college while he was inside. After he was released, he graduated from Penn State. The Chief is reaching, just trying to make his theory fit."

While Sam let that sink in, Officer Haskett walked Bill Houston into the room. Tall and lean, he had a shock of dark hair down the center of his head but was shaved around his ears. He had a wide nose that looked like it had been broken sometime in the past. He hadn't bothered to shave for a few days.

"Bill," Kaylee said.

She stood up and reached for him but Haskett dropped his arm between them and shook his head. He guided Bill to the other side of the table then secured one handcuff to Houston's wrist and the other side to a clamp in the table.

Haskett stood back against the wall with his arms folded over his chest.

"How are you?" Kaylee said to her husband.

"I'm all right," Bill said, his expression bland. "How's Rose?"

"She misses you."

"Who's your friend?" Bill nodded towards Sam.

"This is Sam Winchester," she said. "He wanted to ask you some questions."

Bill's eyes widened and he pressed his lips together. Cocking his head slightly, he said, "You're him, huh?"

Kaylee shifted in the chair but didn't speak.

"I guess so," Sam said, not knowing if Bill was referring to Sam's profession or his past with Kaylee. Glancing in her direction for a clue, he noticed that she'd colored in the cheeks. Our past, he thought then turned back to Bill. "I need to get some details from you."

Bill nodded but the hostility on his face remained.

"Tell me about the day of the attack."

"I was just picking up Rose. Everything seemed pretty normal when I walked in. Jane was baking…something with licorice."

"We think that smell is from the entity," Sam said. "What did you see?"

"The figure was dark, almost like a shadow and it just…appeared. I kind of caught a glimpse then it was just…right there in front of me. I don't really remember getting hit but when I woke up…I saw Jane…on the floor."

He stopped speaking and looked towards Kaylee. She gave him a small nod, apparently encouraging him to continue.

"I didn't know what to do," he said, turning back to Sam. "But, I heard Rose crying so I ran into the study. I passed Bob but I didn't stop. I just picked Rose up and ran outside to get help."

Bill gazed towards the ceiling then down at the table. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand and scratched his head. He had stopped making eye contact with either of them.

"What is it?" Sam said.

"It's crazy. No one will believe me," Bill said.

"Yes, we will," Kaylee said. "What did you see?"

"When I was coming up the walk…to go in the house…to pick up Rose…I thought…through the living room window I thought I saw a woman looking out at me. She had long, ragged hair, like matted, but there was something odd about it. I remember thinking they must have been watching 'The Grudge' on TV. Like I was looking at a reflection from the television. But, then a dog barked and I looked away. When I looked again, she was gone."

"Was she Japanese?" Sam said.

Bill thought for a moment. "Maybe. Asian, I think, pretty sure. For like half a second, I thought it was you." He nodded towards Kaylee. "Thought you'd gotten there first. But, it wasn't, I mean, I knew it right away."

"Why didn't you tell the police?" Kaylee said. "She could be the murderer."

Bill shifted in his seat. His shoulders dropped and he looked towards the table. "I didn't think she was real. I'm still not sure."

"You tell your lawyer," Kaylee said. "There's no detail too small, do you understand me?"

Sounding worried, he said, "I'm sorry. I really think it was just the television."

"Someone killed them." Kaylee's voice quivered. "Someone that isn't you. You're riding on a 'ghost defense' for God's sake. We can't hide anything."

"Okay, I'm sorry." Bill's face reddened. He glanced towards Officer Haskett then towards Sam. His humiliation hung around them.

Sam gave him a minute before continuing, "The licorice smell, the woman in the window, the black shadow, anything else?"

Bill shook his head. "No, nothing."

Sam pressed Bill but he didn't remember hearing or seeing anything else. As he grew more irritated with the questions, Officer Haskett announced the end of their visit. He escorted Bill Houston out of the room while Kaylee and Sam remained in their seats.

After the door closed, Kaylee stood up. Sam followed her out of the police station.

They settled into the Impala for the drive to Rick's apartment. Kaylee mused out loud, wondering how Dean was doing with Rose.

Sam pulled his cell out and called his brother.

"How's Rose doing?" Sam said.

"She's good. Reminds me of you a little. Kind of nothing but a lump at this point."

"You're on speaker," Sam said.

"Don't worry. She is kind of a lump," Kaylee said. "Give her a kiss for me."

"Yeah, will do."

"Bill doesn't know anything. If he summoned it, he's putting on a great show," Sam said.

"Be careful talking to Rick. If he bound it to something, it could be with him."

"Don't worry. I'll call you when we're done."

Sam disconnected.

"So, it's not Bill," Kaylee said.

"I don't think so. You're his wife, did he seem truthful to you?"

"He doesn't really know how to lie."

Falling into the quiet of the passing scenery, they made their way across town. After a couple of intersections, Kaylee said, "Sorry about the way Bill was talking to you."

"He's under some pressure," Sam said, deliberately giving her an excuse.

"That's not it. I told him about our…date…encounter…whatever. He's protective."

Irked by her response, Sam shook his head. "What'd you tell him?"

"Nothing, I mean, not like that. I just…told him that you…"

"That I what?"

"You know…tried to push me…when we were kids."

"I did not," Sam said. He squeezed the steering wheel under his hands while he felt his face heat up. "I get that you were confused then but…"

"I'm not trying to make you angry, Sam, I'm apologizing."

"For Bill. You're apologizing for your husband thinking I did something that you told him I did. I was seventeen, Kaylee."

"So was I," she said.

"Right, exactly. We were kids. I stopped when you told me to. I didn't try to force you into anything."

"I had to push you off, Sam. I weighed 100 pounds then, and you were what, 140…160?"

"All you had to do was speak up."

"I know that. As an adult, I know. But, six years ago, I was worried about everyone's opinion, didn't want to be a chicken or make a scene. I held out as long as I could with just pushing back but you weren't responding to the physical cues so I panicked."

She took a breath. "It was frightening, Sam."

He shook his head. "For me too."

As they pulled up in front of Rick's building, Sam said, "I don't what to say."

He knew she still blamed him. The comment earlier about the alley fight confirmed that. But, she seemed genuinely upset too.

"Look, I just want you to know happened," she said. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, but, you have to understand that my fear was real and it affected me for a long time. I had to tell my husband about it."

Anger deflating, Sam glanced at her. "I never meant to scare you."

She burst out with a short laugh and Sam wondered at her reaction. He couldn't tell if it was discomfort at the conversation or satisfaction.

"I know that now," she said with a smile.

Sam tried to return the expression but there was something odd about it, something he couldn't quite name.

Before he could think too much about it, his cell rang.


	7. Chapter 7

Wicked Intent

Coffeemaniac

Warnings: Suggestive situations, Violence

Season 1

Set between The Benders and Shadow

A reviewer found a pretty big plot hole. (Thanks, JaniceC378) This updated chapter closes it.

Dean held Rose in the crook of his arm. He could count on one hand the number of times that he'd held an infant that wasn't his brother. Even with Sam, he didn't hold him much until after Sam turned two. Their father felt that Dean needed to be at least six years old before carrying the toddler around. By then, Sam wanted to walk more than he wanted to be held.

Other than having Sam propped up in a baby seat while Dean held the bottle, this was his first experience with feeding a baby. She watched him with her round, blue eyes while she sucked on the bottle. Her fingers brushed against his. The weight of her tiny body felt warm. He was surprised by the satisfaction he felt at watching her eat.

He smiled when she gurgled. Kaylee told him to use a burp rag on his shoulder but he used the pink blanket instead. After she took half the bottle, he propped her up. Rose made an unhappy sound but didn't actually cry. Patting her back, Dean rocked slowly.

It took longer than he expected but Rose made a loud, unholy noise then he frowned as warmth wetted his shoulder. He pulled her back on to his arm, snatched up the blanket and wiped her mouth off. Now, he knew why a burp rag was preferred. She smiled, her arms and legs flailing and he gave the bottle back. The vomit, 'spit up?' had soaked through the blanket into his shirt. Annoyed that he'd have to change, he finished feeding her.

He burped her again, got splattered again then grinned when she slipped off to sleep against his chest.

He wadded up the pink blanket and tossed it on the floor, set Rose in the center of the bed, on her back as instructed, and watched her breathe for a moment. Satisfied that she was safe, he grabbed a green blanket out of the diaper bag and covered her, then placed pillows on either side of her. Apparently, sometimes infants roll over and pillows keep them in place.

Dean stood up, looking down at her and wondering if he should have changed her diaper before letting her sleep. He shivered as a cold shaft of air swept over him. The atmosphere seemed to crackle. His breath appeared like smoke. So did hers.

Dean cursed as he moved away from the bed, heading for his duffle bag where he kept the shotgun and salt rounds. His stomach clenched and his skin tingled. Keeping his eyes on Rose, he searched by feel alone. He didn't feel the cold anymore but he could still see her breath hovering. She closed her hands into fists.

His chest felt tight as he snatched up the weapon then scanned the room, looking for the spirit he knew must be there. A mirror hanging over the desk caught his attention and he spied an emaciated figure in the reflection. Dressed in black robes with long, stringy hair, she stared back at him. Her fingers looked like knobby sticks and her black nails curled. With big, dark eyes, her white skin looked translucent. A long tongue slithered out from her narrow lips.

Dean grabbed a handful of salt rounds and dropped them in his pocket. He looked up and found the monster in the mirror had been replaced with a beautiful woman. She peered out at him. Thick black hair curled over narrow shoulders. Her form fitting silk dress revealed narrow hips and the swell of breasts. She smiled and he spun around, firing the shotgun through her. She scattered into smoke.

Finding the iron rod he stored next to the bed, Dean stood up holding the shotgun in one hand and the rod in the other. He swung the rifle on to his shoulder, glad he'd left the strap in place after practice shooting.

He rushed forward, dropped the iron bar and picked Rose up from the bed. Startled, the baby cried out as he set her inside the stroller. He grabbed her green blanket and the bar then ran towards the door. A hiss from behind, long and ugly, sent him spinning around, swinging automatically. The iron swept through the Harionago and she evaporated.

Only to appear instantly.

No longer looking human, the bony creature growled low deep. Her hair curled upward as her lips pulled back in a snarl. Claws descended from the black strands, clacking together as they lifted towards her shoulders. Razor points like shark teeth crowded outward, reaching and snapping. Slender, shining lengths formed, glinting in the dim motel light. All of it underscored by hissing and growling from the creature's throat. Dean turned his back, putting himself between the ghost and the baby. Rose shrieked. Dean cried out as something sliced into his back.

He rushed outside, shoving the stroller on to the sidewalk and slamming the door shut. An inhuman wail followed them. Something thumped against the door and he found a blade pressed through the wood.

Cursing he hurried into the middle of the parking lot. He stopped and slid the iron rod and the shotgun beneath the stroller. Setting the green blanket and then the diaper bag on top of them, he hoped no one would notice. Remembering there was a park a block away, he jogged in that direction, pushing the squalling baby and ignoring the throbbing of his shoulder.

Dean dismissed the disdainful looks from strangers as he jogged along with Rose still crying loudly from the stroller. When he reached the edge of the park he took a quick look around then made a beeline to an empty bench. Wincing at the pain in his back he checked on Rose and found a red faced infant with her hands clenched into tiny fists thrashing around.

Sighing, he reached in and pulled her out. He held her against his chest, bouncing her lightly, trying to calm her. A young woman approached slowly with a fake smile pasted on her face. She was holding the hand of a boy who looked like a toddler.

"Do you need some help?" The woman said. "My name is Sandra and I have a lot of experience with angry infants." She smiled at the boy. He smiled back.

Automatically feeling suspicious, Dean said, "I think she's calming down."

"Distracting her might help," Sandra said. "Does she have a rattle or a toy that she likes?"

He gave the stranger a stern glare. "I said she's all right."

"I know but, that's clearly not the case. Do you have a toy or a blanket? Maybe a pacifier?"

Scowling with anger but not wanting to cause a scene, Dean said, "I left her giraffe behind. Her mom says she likes it."

Sandra cocked her head, a question painted on her face.

"I'm babysitting," Dean said. "Her mother had to run an errand."

Sandra nodded before she crouched down and looked into the stroller. She pawed around while Dean continued bouncing Rose who was still crying but not as hard. He was hoping the overly helpful woman didn't look underneath the stroller and find his shotgun.

"Try patting her back," Sandra said. She continued looking for something. "Here we go."

She stood up and shook out the green blanket.

"It's not a toy but it might help," she said.

Rose made a gurgling noise then she started hiccupping instead of crying.

"That's better," Sandra said. She tucked the blanket around Rose and under Dean's fingers. "Just keep doing what you're doing. She's settling."

"Thanks for your help," he said, grudgingly. Hearing Rose screaming bothered him on different levels: from hating that she was upset to angry that she wouldn't quiet down. He used to have similar problems with Sam's infant outbursts.

"She needs to be changed," Sandra said.

Dean glared at her.

"It happens," she said then took the boy's hand. "Come on, Buster."

Sandra and Buster walked away. When they reached the sidewalk, she glanced back once more before continuing to wherever they were going.

Dean sat down on the bench. His shoulder ached, blood trickled down his back, and he needed to call Sam. He took a moment to look at Rose again and found her chewing on her fist while her eyes fluttered. Apparently, all the excitement tired her out.

He set her back in the stroller, took off an overly wet diaper and replaced it with a clean one. He covered her then pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed the first entry on his speed dial.

The phone rang a couple of times before Sam answered.

"The Harionago was in our room," Dean said. "I have the baby. We're at that park down the street."

"Is she all right?" Sam said.

"She's fine but we have to figure out what's drawing the ghost."

"We're outside Rick's building," Sam said. "Give us fifteen minutes to see if he knows anything then we'll head back. Dean, ditch the stroller, the baby bag…thing…whatever. Get you and her away from it."

"Yeah, right, why don't I leave a bomb behind too. I can't leave Harionago bait on the street. And I can't leave Rose someplace either so…get here. And bring a plan with you."

"Okay, okay," Sam said.

"I'm going to find an open space. Make a salt circle and wait for you. I'll text the address."

Dean disconnected. He looked around, feeling the energy pick up in the wind. Knowing he needed to get away from the park, he set Rose back in her stroller, glad to see her sleeping.

Turning in a slow circle, he searched the small neighborhood looking for a garage or a warehouse. He needed a place large enough to house both of them for a while. About halfway down the block, he spied a "For Sale" sign in the front yard of a house. He started jogging towards it, hoping the sellers weren't at home.

The light afternoon breeze had grown colder and his skin prickled with goosebumps.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Sam bullied Kaylee into going up the steps to see Rick. She fought him using every argument in her arsenal because she wanted to get to Rose. He pushed back, falling on his experience, citing his faith in Dean and refusing to take the Impala anyplace but Rick's apartment. He hated forcing her away from the baby but they needed to see Rick. The anguish in Kaylee's eyes shined back at him but he refused to give in.

"Dean will keep her safe," he said as they climbed the narrow stairway towards Rick's apartment. The building was old with yellowing paint and thin carpet. Track lighting provided little illumination making the building feel dank.

"This is bullshit." Kaylee stopped about halfway up and turned around. "I never should have left her."

"If Rick can tell us what he brought back, we can burn it. End this thing," Sam said. He pointed towards the top landing. "Keep going."

She jogged up the rest of the stairs. Hurrying down the hall, she stopped in front of a door with numbers painted beneath a peep hole. She pounded against the wood.

The door opened revealing a painfully thin Rick Sullivan. With sunken cheeks and hollowed features, he looked back and forth between Kaylee and Sam. His hands were shaking as he folded his arms over his chest. The dark circles under his eyes looked painful against his pale skin. A bald patch, circular and random stood out against shaggy, brown hair.

Kaylee walked around him to get inside and Sam followed her.

The foul smell of old trash permeated the room. On the floor beside a chair, a clear bottle half filled with amber liquid sat.

"You brought home a souvenir," Sam said. His voice sounded loud in the morose apartment. "What is it and where is it?"

"It's just a story," He said, grinding his fingers into his skull.

"Rick," Sam said. He handed Rick the bottle of cheap scotch. "Make sense."

Kaylee's brother took a long drink, shuddering as he swallowed. He looked at his sister.

"Her name was Mei. She was attacked, stabbed. She made it home but she died outside, freezing. Her mother took the blanket from Mei's bed and made smaller blankets out of it. She gave them to a local orphanage. Kaylee, it was an act of love, to honor Mei. I told you that."

"Wait," Sam said, turning to Kaylee. "You knew this story?"

"I didn't think about it," she said.

"How did you not think about it when we're looking for an object that your brother brought back?"

"We're looking for a ghost, not an object. I'm sorry, I just didn't think about it."

Sam felt a tingle slide up his spine.

Kaylee grabbed her brother's shoulders tight enough to make him wince. "Then what happened? What did you do?"

"Nothing. I didn't do anything, I just…I started feeling weird, depressed. And paranoid, just really paranoid. I didn't know what was going on but after I left and moved back here, I felt so much better."

She shoved him back as she released him. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips were pressed together.

"When did you find out about the Harionago?" Sam said.

"In Japan. It was part of the legend. The tenshu, uh, store owner said her relative was murdered and started some curse."

"Did you do something?" Sam said. "Say some chant or words over the blanket? Did you try to summon the Harionago?"

"Why would I do that?" He looked at his sister, his face slack. "We laughed about it, remember? The crazy ghost story."

Sam froze for a moment as the truth crashed down on him. Holding his breath, he reached behind him for the Taurus. Kaylee looked between him and her brother. Wide eyed, her cheeks reddening, she stepped backwards towards the door. Sam drew the gun, dropping it to aim at her.

"What did you do?" Sam said. He didn't want to be right but knew that he was.

"What are you talking about?" She said.

"He didn't summon it. You did."

She took a slow breath then moved towards her brother. Rick looked down at her. He was visibly shaking.

"I wouldn't…" The words started then stopped. She swallowed. "I had to."

"What?" Rick said.

"My parents were rich but they were healthy and I couldn't wait. Bill was in too deep with all his gambling crap."

"What are you saying," Rick said, his voice high and breathless.

"She did a spell and brought the Harionago to the blanket," Sam said.

"It was so easy," Kaylee said. "I just read the words and it came. Then I left the blanket in the house and she was trapped with it." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "She was so angry."

"Rose was in the house," Rick said.

"She doesn't kill babies. Or women. Just men…like Dad…like Bill." Kaylee breathed out a shaky laugh. "Oh, I was scared. I mean, what if I was wrong? But, I had to trust the legend or it wouldn't have worked."

"What about mom?" Rick said.

Kaylee shook her head. "I don't know. She must have done something, fought it or…I don't know. I just know it was supposed to kill Dad and Bill but it screwed up."

Rick backed up a couple of steps and sank on to the couch. He dropped his head in his hands.

Kaylee turned to Sam. "I loved my mother. And Dad left half of his money to Rick and I. It would've been enough. I didn't know it would kill her."

"But, it did," Sam said.

She shook her head. "I know. And then Bill started talking about ghosts and I didn't know how to undo it. I was hoping it would just disappear or something."

"That's why you called me," Sam said to Kaylee. "You needed someone to get rid of it."

Anger tinged her words as she continued. "She wouldn't stop following me. I was afraid if I left the damn blanket someplace, she'd kill someone else. I didn't want that. I mean, I'm not crazy."

"Think you might be," Sam said.

"Oh, shut up. I planted the blanket at the house…you and your brother walking through the front door…I knew she'd show herself. But, you ran away instead of killing her. Then I had to drive all the way there just to get the stupid thing again."

Sam remembered when Dean watched her arrive back at the motel. They had no idea that she was retrieving the death blanket.

"Where is it now?"

"In the diaper bag. What else would I do with it?"

"You selfish bitch," Rick said. "You let me blame myself."

Kaylee's scowl turned to fear when she turned towards her brother.

Sam glanced over at him, stiffening when he saw the gun in Rick's hand. An open drawer in the end stand showed where it had come from. Sam swung his weapon towards him but before he could speak or fire, Rick blasted all eight rounds into his sister. Kaylee stared at him, shock painted over her face. She looked down to see blood pumping from the wounds before she tipped over, collapsing like an airless balloon.

Rick dropped the gun, crying out before covering his face again.

Sam stared between the siblings, heart pounding, breath caught in his chest. He reached into his pocket and phoned Dean. His brother didn't answer. He called 911 next and reported the shooting. He gave the address of Rick's apartment then hung up when she asked for Sam's name.

Running out the door and down the steps, Sam called Dean again.


	8. Chapter 8

Wicked Intent

Coffeemaniac

Warnings: Suggestive situations, Violence

Season 1

Set between The Benders and Shadow

This is the final chapter. Thank you to all those who are reading, especially those who sent reviews.

No vehicles rested on the street or in the driveway of the small house, but Dean had knocked and rang the bell at the front door to make sure no one was home. Then he headed down the side yard towards the back.

The house was surrounded by a fence. He had to unsnap the baby carrier from the stroller, with Rose inside, then drop it on the other side of a locked gate, holding his breath when it thumped softly on to the ground. Rose didn't wake. Picking up the stroller, he dropped that over next then he followed, landing neatly beside the baby.

He fitted the carrier back in the stroller then pushed it across the brick walk and on to the back porch. Carefully and quietly he picked the lock with Rose snoring softly beside him. He felt the click as the tumblers dropped and pushed the door open.

He rolled the stroller into a nice, recently painted kitchen then started searching the cupboards for salt. His meager supply would not be enough to make a proper circle.

Dean opened cabinet doors and was happy to find a large bag of rock salt, probably for use in dissolving ice during the frigid winters. He shoved the kitchen table out of the way then started making a circle that would contain him and the baby. The stroller would need to be outside the protected area since anything inside could be ghost-nip.

The air grew noticeably colder and the curtains above the kitchen window billowed outward. The cloying smell of licorice started building around them.

Dean cursed. The granules started to shift in the new breeze. He worked faster. Just as he closed the circle, the back door slammed shut. Dean reached into the stroller and stripped off the cotton, one piece thing that Rose wore, leaving only her diaper on. She complained with a gurgle and clenched fists. He scooped her up and brought her into the circle. Setting her down on her back on the kitchen tile, he turned in a full circle, looking for the Harionago.

She remained invisible but the kitchen cabinets clattered wildly, and one of the drawers flew open. Adrenaline rushed through Dean, his heart beat in time with the cupboards. He shook off his over shirt and dropped it the middle of the floor. Continuing to scan the room, he moved Rose off the cold tile and on to his shirt. He covered her from head to foot, determined to keep her safe from breaking glass and splinters.

Sliding the gun and the iron rod out of the stroller basket, he backed himself inside the circle, set the rod on the floor and hoisted the shotgun.

A moment later the ghost appeared, shimmering near the stroller then taking shape. Her long hair curled into razors and scissors and knives. She bared her teeth with a hiss that sent tendrils of smoke spiraling upward. Dean fired the shotgun into her and the Harionago evaporated with a scream.

His cell phone rang. Ignoring it, he turned in a slow circle, waiting for the ghost to appear again. She burst back into view, hovering near the stroller, her lips pulled back into a snarl while her lethal hair snapped and clicked, lunging towards Dean but not crossing the salt line. His phone fell silent then immediately started ringing again. He fumbled it out of his pocket, bracing his feet on either side of the baby.

The ghost appeared again with stark white skin and pale lips. Spit dribbled from inside her blackened mouth. Razors danced from the tips of her hair. Dean fired, the ghost puffed into smoke. The breeze grew colder as he watched the salt line tremble.

Swearing again, he managed to press the speaker button with his thumb.

"Dean," Sam's voice called out.

"It's here." Dean said. The Harionago snarled loudly. Dean thought her hair grew longer with more clanking, deadly blades. His stomach turned at the overpowering stench of star anise. He fired again.

"The blanket, the green blanket," Sam said. "That's the object."

"Where are you?"

"On my way. Did you make a circle? Are you in it?"

"Yes, but, it's…"

"Stay in the circle. I'm on my way."

Dean reloaded. The Harionago hissed from behind him. Spinning, he fired but she moved and he missed. He fired again, catching her center mass this time, and she evaporated. In the space of a heartbeat she appeared again. Dean cursed as he reloaded.

The salt line was deteriorating quickly so it was just a matter of time before she crossed inside. He needed to get to the blanket. It was laying enticingly close on the floor by the stroller. Closing his eyes, he took a breath then glanced at the baby. Rose had shimmied his shirt off her face. She stared up at him, not crying but watching.

Dean dropped the shotgun and picked up the iron rod. He needed to be standing over Rose to safely use the gun.

Just as stepped out of the circle, the Harionago leaped at him. Razors swiped through his shirt, leaving bloody scratches down his arm. He barely felt it as he somersaulted around her. Landing a foot away, he rolled to his feet. Swinging the club, the iron swept her away. He dove towards the stroller and grabbed the blanket. The ghost's bladed hair jabbed into his shoulder. Dean shuffled backward, yelling out in anger with pain burning down his arm as she drove closer to him.

He swung the rod again. She screamed as she disappeared. He fumbled for his lighter, flicking it once, twice. She came back, her vicious weapons uncoiling like snakes. Another knife lunged, tearing open his shirt and nicking his side. Dean worked the lighter, glad when it flared to life. He set it against the corner of the blanket. An unwelcome thought strayed through his brain, 'is it fire retardant?". A moment lighter, the material lit. The Harionago screeched, angry and offended, as she struck out with all her locks. Dean dove away, landing with a jarring thud as he watched the flames lick across her wretched body.

"Sayonara," he said as she disappeared. He dropped on to his back, sighing as adrenaline still pumped through him.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Sam slammed the Impala into park before jumping out, running the short distance to the front door and bursting inside of the "for sale" house. He ran through the living room, around a jutting wall and into the kitchen. Sam's breath caught when he saw Dean sitting in the middle of a destroyed salt circle with Rose squalling in his arms. Blood dripped from his side and shoulder. His eyes were slits.

"She's okay," Dean said, his voice strained.

"What about the Harionago?" Sam said to Dean.

"Gone. You were right about the blanket."

"Come on," Sam said to Dean. "Let's get you fixed up."

Sam took the baby and set her inside the stroller. She was sleeping peacefully as if being wrapped in flannel and huddling in a salt circle was normal. He wondered if she'd notice her mother was gone.

"Where's Kaylee?" Dean said.

"Dead," Sam said.

"What? Why? Did you?"

Sam shook his head. "She's the one who bound the Harionago to the blanket. Rick shot her."

"How did that happen? You know what…tell me outside."

Going to the Impala, Dean settled heavily into the passenger seat and Sam spent a few minutes putting some bandages in place to stop the bleeding while he told him about the events at Rick's apartment. After he finished, Dean seemed dumbfounded.

"Let's get back to the motel," Sam said to Dean. "You're going to need stitches for the shoulder. Probably for your arm too."

Following Dean's directions, Sam disconnected the seat of the stroller and buckled it into the car. Apparently, it acted as a car seat too.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Dean drank beer while Sam stitched up his ripped open shoulder. Complaining throughout, Dean watched him push the needle through his skin. Three beers later, the job was done. They agreed bandages would suffice for the rest of the gouges he received from the Harionago, including his forearm.

"We should've trusted our instincts," Sam said. "Kaylee tracking us down like that, tossing the baby into the mix, we should've known."

"She manipulated us, no getting around that."

"She was pretty batshit crazy at the end."

"Kind of have to be if you think summoning a ghost to kill your parents is the best way to go."

Sam settled on to the edge of the bed opposite from Dean. He cradled Rose in one arm while he fed her a bottle. Melancholy washed over him as he stared down at the motherless infant.

"I wish she hadn't been," he said. "Rose depended on her and she just threw it away for nothing."

"She made some bad choices. I don't think she thought it would get her killed."

"I did not see that coming," Sam admitted.

Dean chuckled. "Neither did she."

The sound of Rose sucking on the bottle was the only noise for a few minutes. Then Dean announced that he was hungry. Sam winced inwardly when he noticed how pale and unhappy his brother looked.

"I'll go if you want to babysit," Sam said. "What sounds good?"

With no segue, Dean nodded towards Rose, "What are we going to do about her?"

"This," Sam said. He took his phone out, scrolled through a search and came up with the phone number for the Cherry Lane Police Department.

After getting put on hold and speaking with a receptionist then Officer Haskett, Sam was finally connected to the Chief. He already knew about Kaylee and had told Bill about it.

"I have Rose with me," Sam said. "We were babysitting. What's going to happen next?"

"We're releasing Houston in the morning. Rick Sullivan confessed to killing his sister and said that the two of them planned the murder of his parents."

"He did?"

"Still not sure I believe all of it but a confession is a confession."

Dean looked up and Sam gave him a surprised look.

"So, what about the baby?"

"Give me your address and I'll send Child Services over to pick her up."

Sam hesitated, hating the idea of turning Rose over to strangers.

"It's not a gulag, Winchester. They'll take good care of her."

"Yeah, okay," Sam said. He gave the address of the motel and disconnected.

After relating the information to Dean, the two of them sat silently for a moment while Dean burped Rose. She spit up on the towel he had draped over his shoulder. Groaning, he wiped her mouth off and handed her to Sam.

"It's better this way," Dean said. "We need to blow town, get back to looking for Dad."

Sam exchanged a look with his brother. Dean was right. The need to find what killed Jess and his mother burned as strongly as ever. By morning, Rose would be safely with her father, he and Dean would be on the road and Kaylee would become a distant, unpleasant memory.


End file.
